


Editorial disagreements

by Isimile



Series: Fluff Bingo [6]
Category: Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, McPherson is mentioned to have died, Sherlock Holmes's Retirement, Story: The Adventure of the Lion's Mane
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:26:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23375368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Isimile/pseuds/Isimile
Summary: Holmes does not like that they have to omit Watson's presence in his life in the published account of The Adventure of the Lion's Mane-----For the prompt 'Walk on the Beach' of the Fluff Bingo
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Series: Fluff Bingo [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1671601
Comments: 2
Kudos: 41
Collections: Just Write! Fluff Bingo, Minions' writings





	Editorial disagreements

**Author's Note:**

> This story is inspired by the analysis of The Adventure of the Lion's Mane in Decoding the Subtext by Nekosmuse.

“We could go for a walk.”

Watson looked up from where he was editing Holmes’ account before they’d send it to be published. The suggestion was unexpected, but because it came from Holmes and because it was winter. Back when they had lived in London, as brief stroll to the theatre or a concert had been possible but here, at the coast of Sussex, the winter was far harsher. They also were not as young as they had once been. A few years ago, they had finally had to admit to themselves that they were getting on in their years, that while Holmes’ mind was certainly still sharp enough to solve cases, the physical demands of some cases was becoming too much.

The move to the countryside and their more sedentary lifestyle here had done a lot for Holmes’ health. He was also overall calmer, no longer in constant search for mental stimulation. He went out regularly to tend to his bees but a walk was usually something he had to talk Holmes into.

“Now?” He looked out of the window. It had been overcast for days and it didn’t seem like thinks would improve anytime soon. Being at the coast also meant that there was wind blowing inland from the sea. “I doubt anyone else will be out.”

“Yes.”

Ah. That made sense, then. He capped the pen and laid it down slowly. “Let me get our coats and hats, my friend.”

When they had bundled up against the cold, they said out. Watson followed Holmes, even after all these years still accustomed to it. His time with Holmes had also taught him patience. Whatever had him so agitated right now, he would share when he was ready. Their communication skills had improved considerably since the earlier days of their friendship.

Holmes finally stopped at the lagoon where poor McPherson had been killed by the jellyfish, the very case Watson had been editing earlier.

Holmes stared out onto the sea. “I do not like referring to you as my housekeeper.”

Watson stayed silent. It was part of the editing process he’d been doing earlier, making sure he was not mentioned in the course of the case. They had agreed to pretend to his readers that only Holmes had moved to Sussex, that he had built a life elsewhere and that they had grown apart in their retirement. Others living nearby, like Stackhurst, knew of course that Holmes did not live with a housekeeper, especially not a female one, but would not tell anyone outside of this little community. He was still trying to come up with a way how Holmes could have learned about the death of the dog, the information he had given him. Perhaps he could have Stackhurst say in the story, the same way they had already replaced his own person with Stackhurst?

“I know why we are doing it. I agreed when we discussed how to present any cases after our retirement from London. Yet I did not expect it to chafe as much as it did. Writing down that case yet having to omit your presence and existence...” Holmes trailed off and shook his head.

“It is not the first time we have had to adjust the account before I sent it to be published,” Watson pointed out.

“This is more than throwing in a reference to your marriage or another wife or omitting a private moment between us.” Not that they had been common during cases. Holmes tended to have a single-minded focus. “We are changing details of how the case was solved this time. We are omitting the part you played, of how you treated Murdoch and may just be why he recovered so well.” Holmes turned to look at him. “The invaluable help and inspiration you offer me.” His voice dropped lower, quieter. “How very dear you are to me. How you are a part of me.”

Watson was touched to hear it. It was true what he had written in his accounts, Holmes had rarely shown his emotions, his regard for him, openly, rather preferring to show it in the little gestures after his return, after they had found their way back together, back into a newer, more stable relationship. As they were outside, he could not show him his appreciation the way he wanted to, so he instead stepped closer, close enough that their shoulders brushed. “My dearest Holmes,” he murmured, voice thick with the emotions he could not show here and now. “You have to know I feel the same. That you are so very important to me. I cannot imagine my life anywhere else than by your side.”

“I know-”

Watson kept talking over him. “If this is how you feel, then we will not record this case or others that may still come.” He smiled teasingly. “After all I have sufficient notes of previous cases I can edit for publication.”

Holmes returned the smile, thankful once again for the lucky fate that had brought Watson into his life. “Thank you.” He considered it. “Let us finish editing this case, so that I may serve as warning for others of the danger of cyanea capillata, that they avoid it and that no other innocent be suspected of having killed those falling victim to this killer. Then we can take a look at your notes together and decide on which of them may suit for publication.”

“Very well. Shall we turn back and return to our home?”

“Let us walk out here a while longer,” Holmes said. “I wish to create other, better memories of this beach again after what happened here.”

Watson understood what he was not saying. Their place here was to be a new life for them, full of peace and the opportunity to enjoy life, and yet death had once again intruded, so Holmes wished to take back that peace. “Then let us walk.” He offered him his arm.

And so they walked along the beach, now side by side, their arms linked as their lives were.


End file.
